


Separation Anxiety

by ValiantMurder



Series: Various One-Shots [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 19:38:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3949162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValiantMurder/pseuds/ValiantMurder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Lyarra Stark had married the Baratheon Prince in place of her sister? What if Jon Snow had remembered his encounter with his sister with anything but shame? This work is based on The Adventures of Lyarra Stark, if things had been different for her. Different for the realm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Separation Anxiety

Being the Queen had not been the awful experience the seer had led Lyarra Stark to believe when she had been but a child. She had not been an awful Queen, she had not ruined the Kingdom. Joffrey had been a good Father to their two children; their two little boys Tytos and Rickard, named for their forefathers. Tytos had been born not a year after they had said their vows. He came screaming into the world in a flurry of pain and confusion and had brought more joy to Lyarra than she had ever expected anybody could. His first word had been  _King_ and that had pleased his Father all too much whilst his second had been Mother, every word after had been proper and oddly polite. At the age of ten and one he now ruled the Red Keep as much as his Father, and Joffrey let him. Rickard had come some five years later, his birth had taken almost three entire days and he had not spoken for the longest times. Grand Maester Pycelle assured them that he would be fine, and eventually he was. Where Tytos spoke with his words Rickard spoke his movements and Joffrey was sure that he would one day make a fine swordsman. Both boys had their Father's hair and both had their Mother's eyes. When Lyarra had left Kings Landing for Winterfell for the first time since she had married Joffrey both boys had cried, Tytos quiet and dignified and Rickard loudly and into her stomach. _I will be home so soon sweetling_ Lyarra had whispered just for her youngest son as he kissed the side of his head.  _Try not to grow too much in my absence_ she had added with the slightest grin. Joffrey had embraced her and kissed her gently on the mouth, a show of courtesy only, as he had not visited her bed in almost two years.  

Lyarra had not planned to skip Winterfell entirely but when she saw it's castle approaching she had asked her dear golden knight Ser Garlan Tyrell if she could perhaps go somewhere else first. Together the pair had mounted their steeds and ridden for the Wall instead. Joffrey had not been lax in their provisions nor her guard, so of course the rest had followed; only at a quicker pace now that their Queen rode a horse, not in a cart. Lyarra had stopped writing to all but her sisters shortly after marrying the King. Sansa now resided in Highgarden and had visited court more than once, without her husband Willas but with their son and daughter. Arya was harder to persuade to visit, residing in Dorne with her own husband Trystane, but they were yet to have children. In Winterfell however, were where Lyarra's ghosts seemed the strongest. Her brother Robb had married Myrcella Baratheon and together they had had one little girl, a little girl they had named Lyanna. Catelyn Stark wrote her daughter to say how happy the pair were, but Lyarra had never found the time to reply. Only when Winterfell was far behind her did Lyarra begin to relax, Garlan rode close by but silent, allowing her the time to breath and think without interruption. 

At night when they made camp Lyarra sat alone waiting for her great direwolf to return to her. Ula had been less than happy in Kings Landing, every time Joffrey went out hunting the wolf went with him. Together the pair had made a tiny bond but Lyarra knew that this time she would not be returning to Kings Landing with her. The two times she had visited Highgarden she had considered leaving the wolf there, as she seemed more alive than any time she spent in the garden assigned to her at the Red Keep. Ula would miss the children, Tytos and Rickard loved nothing more than to pet the great wolf and pretend that they too knew something of the North. They would miss their mothers wolf too, but nobody would feel the ache as much as Lyarra. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes she was surprised to miss the calls of her children that had kept her on her feet for the last ten and one years.  _But of course I do_ Lyarra scolded herself, they were her children after all.

"How are you feeling my Queen?" Garlan's voice came gently from the darkness to her left side. He had abandoned the rest of the men at their campfires and made himself a seat beside his Queen. 

"I am well, Ser." Lyarra replied, turning to smile at him. Garlan had joined the Kings Guard soon after Sansa's marriage to Willas, the opening space in the Kings Guard had come when Joffrey dismissed Ser Selmy Barriston the Bold for being  _too old_ the action had caused a lot of unrest among his other Kings Guard, but Jaime Lannister had taken the role of Commander of the Kings Guard and Garlan had become the newest recruit. 

"What are you going to tell the King?" 

"I told the King I was going to see my brothers, in case you have forgotten I have a brother that resides on the Wall. From the letters the Night's Watch send the King it would appear that he is now the Lord Commander." Lyarra smiled at Garlan's surprise. "You don't think Joffrey will mind me reading his letters, do you?" Garlan shook his head, even as she began to age the Queen still had her tricks.

By the time they reached the Wall the company had sent a letter ahead to let the Night's Watch know what to expect. Lyarra's heart pounded in her chest as though afire when she saw the Wall. So frantic were the beats that she lifted her hand to her chest as though to stop is bursting free. The Wall was bigger than she had ever imagined. When the sun hit it the stark whiteness of it blinded her momentarily, causing her to lift her hand over her eyes.  _Wow_ she thought breathlessly as she encouraged her mount to go faster. When she entered the gates that led to Castle Black her heart had calmed to a steady pace. The courtyard was void of men and women alike, from the castle came two men only. Both all in black. To the left a man with brown hair and a plump face tottered forward awkwardly, when his eyes met Lyarra's his face flushed red and he seemed to suddenly find his boots very interesting. On the other side of this man stood a more attractive brother of the Night's Watch. He had dark grey eyes that almost appeared black and shoulder length black curls. When his eyes met Lyarra's he did not look away, instead a smile graced his lips.

"My Queen," Jon said when he came to stand before her mount, offering his aid she let his grip her waist and help her from the horse. His hands were strong against her flesh and she felt her own cheeks grow hot. 

"Hello brother," Lyarra said playfully, raising an eyebrow. "Or should I say Lord Commander?" The pair laughed lightly before Jon introduced his companion. Maester Samwell Tarly. The man stammered a hello and kissed Lyarra's hand, his lips were cold from the snow and Lyarra brushed aside his apology. "If it were your fault the Snow made you so cold then it must be my fault that my gowns smell like sweat after a day in Kings Landing." Samwell laughed awkwardly with her and for a moment the three seemed like old friends.

"Your Grace," Garlan's voice came from behind her, when she turned Lyarra seemed to remember her place. 

"I don't suppose you have room to house my men and warm food to heat their bellies, Lord Commander?" She asked, Jon nodded in response and had Samwell lead the men away. Slowly the Nights Watch came from their hiding places and Lyarra, once assigned to her room, watched them from her window curiously. When night fell Jon brought her evening meal to her room himself, and when she requested that he sit with her he did not refuse. 

"You've changed," Jon said after a moment of silence. Lyarra looked across from her food to her bastard brother and laughed. It was a full and hearty laugh that took Jon by surprise. "What?" He asked in surprise.

"I have changed. In the eleven years in which I have become Queen, had two children and aged I have _changed_ oh Jon Snow, you make me laugh." Jon chuckled with her then. "You too have changed, I think I can see some wrinkles" Lyarra pushed her hair behind her ear and pushed the plate of food away. For the rest of the night the pair caught up and laughed until it was time for Jon to return to his own chambers and sleep. 

"I will see you at dawn, standing a top the Wall. Or has old age made your bones ache in the Northern cold?" Lyarra scoffed, she had not felt an ache in her bones on any of the days she had woken on her journey to the wall but it was colder here, the cold more harsh. 

"At dawn then, Jon." Lyarra replied softly, rising with him and walking to the doorway of her temporary chambers. Gently Jon took her hand and kissed the top of it softly, his eyes ever on her own. "Sleep well," she added as she slipped her hand from his own. 

Long after Jon had gone Lyarra felt his kiss lingering on her hand. She remembered all those years ago what it had felt like to have him inside her albeit briefly. She wondered if he had visited the whore house in Moles Town, she had seen the whores there as she rode through with her company, her cloak ever drawn over her face. Joffrey had taken to keeping a mistress in the castle this past year, she was a pretty dark thing and Lyarra found the jealousy she was supposed to feel never came. Yet right now, laying in her bed with her hand held against her heart she felt a jealousy rising towards the whores who may have bedded her pretty half brother. 

Sure enough when dawn came Lyarra stood atop the Wall, Garlan had been surprised when she opened her door when the night was still upon them. A thick woolen dress drawn tight around her beneath a cloak of black that he assumed the Lord Commander had left her. Lyarra had allowed Garlan to put another cloak about her shoulders, his arm lingered protectively as they went through the castle and past various men of the Night's Watch. The way their eyes lingered on his Queen's person made him itch to reach for his sword and teach them a lesson in etiquette yet he did not, because Lyarra did not approve of being coddled.  _Are you certain you are not cold?_ Garlan had asked when they got inside the elevator attached to the great ice wall. The Queen had shaken her head ever so slightly and he had removed his arm from her shoulders. When they reached the top Garlan followed at a distance, seeing that the Lord Commander waited for her. 

"I am surprised you made it all the way up here, weren't you afraid of heights, my Queen?" Jon asked when Lyarra came to his side.

"Wrong sister, I am afraid" Lyarra replied gently, a tone of sadness seeping into her tone. "It was Arya, fearless Arya who did not like to be up in the skies." Jon felt deflated at her words, he had seen none of his sisters until Lyarra rode to the Wall. "She is happy, as is Sansa. Arya would like you to write more, but I doubt she would ever ask." 

"What about you, your Grace?" Jon looked across and their eyes met. 

"I have two sons to keep me busy, writing to my Lord Commander brother is unfortunately not at the top of my priority list. Especially since Joffrey seems determined to marry Tytos sooner rather than later." 

"I wish I could meet them," Lyarra smiled at her brothers words and rested her hand on his shoulder. 

"They would have loved to come here, to see you. To see the North." Lyarra looked across the Wall towards the utmost corners of the North and watched as the hints of a sunrise began to touch it. Orange and yellow hues highlighted the trees and all it touched, and for a brief moment it seemed as though it was not all the land was blanketed in snow. "Tytos especially, he hates the heat. Sometimes I think he wishes Joffrey would have sent him North when Father requested him as ward to be with Robb and Myrcella's daughter." 

"Lyanna," Jon said softly, "Robb invited me to Winterfell when she was born. She's all Northerner, not a touch of her Mother in her features. I don't think it bothers her, but Robb..."

"I don't want to talk about Robb, please Jon" Lyarra dropped her hand from his shoulder but Jon caught it in his hands. 

"Okay," he whispered, the gentle wind carrying his voice away. "No more talk of things that hurt." 

"No more talk of things that hurt." Lyarra agreed.

"Tell me more about my nephews."

And so she did. From the time Tytos rode Ula up until Rickard crying into her skirts unashamed the day that she left Kings Landing. Jon asked questions, how did they look? Could they ride horses? Was Joffrey kind to them? Everything that he asked the Queen answered with enthusiasm and a smile that he suspected had only come into being since her children had been born. Jon had seen the same smile on Robb, but he did not tell her this.  _No more talk of things that hurt._ When the sun had finally risen he looked across to Lyarra's face and was captivate by her beauty. The beauty that had taken his manhood when he was but a boy, and the beauty that he had held deeply within his heart for all these years. When she finished talking Lyarra leaned her head against Jon's shoulder and shut her eyes, tired all of a sudden. Her sudden touch sent warmth through Jon's shoulder and he was grateful for her companionship. A cough from behind called for his attention and when the Lord Commander turned her saw Samwell Tarly standing at a close distance.

"Lord Commander, Your Grace" Samwell said shakily, nervous with the Kings Guard watching him with narrowed eyes. 

"It looks as though you are needed, Lord Commander," Lyarra said with a yawn, she smiled at Jon and headed towards Garlan. Together the pair headed in the opposite direction towards the elevator. Jon nodded for Samwell to approach and they clasped hands. 

"She's the one, isn't she?" Jon did not have to ask what he meant.  _She's the one aye_ he thought a little guiltily. She was also the  _Queen_ now. But Jon had shared his story with Samwell when they were but boys and Lyarra was still tucked away in Winterfell. They had been cleaning the mess hall when Samwell asked Jon about girls, and Jon had shared the story of the girl he had slept with.  _Was she beautiful? Tell me what she looked like_ Samwell had asked eagerly, and Jon had obliged, glad to finally have somebody to share the tale with.  _She has auburn hair and eyes like stormy clouds._ Samwell had tittered,  _and her, you know?_ he had asked with a grin, motioning to his chest.  _They were perfectly sized for my hands_ but Jon would say no more. Samwell had seen the Queen approach with her auburn hair and eyes like storm clouds and known, known by the smile that crept onto his dear friend and the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch's face. "She's very beautiful" Samwell added with a smile, "the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. When I was a boy I didn't imagine that I would ever meet a Queen, even less so when I joined the Night's Watch."

"We can't talk about her like that," Jon answered.

"Isn't she your sister?" 

"Half-sister" as though that made it any easier.

When evening fell once more Jon again found himself in the Queen's chambers, listening to her talk about court and the intrigues it held. He watched the way that her lips curved around certain words and listened to the laughter that escaped when she remembered something funny that either a member of court or her sons had done. For a brief moment Jon wondered what it would be like to visit court, to muss the children's heads and to listen to their tales of their Mother. The moment vanished quickly when a chill swept into the room from the chambers open window. Lyarra drew the black cloak Jon had given her tighter around her and smiled apologetically.

"My body has forgotten how to cope with the Northern chill, or so it would appear."

"A pity the King did not choose to come with you," the words escaped before Jon could catch them. Lyarra looked at him with a frown that turned quickly into laughter. 

"The King has no interest in keeping  _me_ warm, Jon. The Queen sees to the Queen's needs whilst the King sees to the Kingdoms, the Kingdoms and a pretty foreign girl he has taken to keeping in the Red Keep." Despite her words Lyarra was smiling. "Joff loves his children, he cares for me but my intrigue went away after I gave him two healthy heirs. I cannot blame him for finding comfort in a younger, more beautiful woman. Especially as I have thought of bedding one of my court friends more than once; if only to fulfill a need." Jon looked at her wide eyed and she apologized, "I do not have such vocal freedom back at home. But tell me, Lord Commander; have you never broken your vows?"

"I have," Jon answered honestly, his cheeks felt hot from all this talk. "She is the reason the Free Folk are allowed here, and beyond the Southern side of the Wall." Lyarra listened intently as he continued; he had lived with the Free Folk and laid with one, a beautiful woman with hair kissed by fire, she had died in an attack on the Wall and afterwards Jon had treated with their King to give the people beyond the wall safety from what lurked out there.

"I am sorry," the tenderness in her voice surprised Jon. "It always hurts when the one you love becomes the one you loved." Lyarra's words hung in the air for a long moment as they stared at one another, reaching forward she put her hand on his. It was oddly warm for somebody who shook with cold. Jon looked down to their hands and turned his to intertwine them, her hand was brown from all the sun she received in Kings Landing whilst his was pale from the North. The touch was unfamiliar as it was welcome to them both. It had been a long time since Jon had touched a woman and far too long since any male aside from her sons had touched Lyarra with affection. 

"It did hurt," Jon admitted, watching as Lyarra's fingers curled around his own softly, when he looked up she was looking at him intently. 

"It seems us Stark's are made for painful things." She was right, of course. Jon had suffered on the Wall, Lyarra had suffered in Kings Landing and each and every one of their siblings all the way down to Rickon had lost something. Sansa with her first son, Arya when Nymeria had been killed by frightened men, Robb when his wife had told him that her brother had taken her virtue by force. Bran had lost the use of one of his arms in a hunting accident, and Rickon had fathered a bastard. It all seemed so bizarre, that the children who once played in the courtyard of Winterfell had suffered so. Jon had heard from Robb that his Mother Lady Stark had lost a final child, not long after Lyarra had been made Queen had she lost the little Stark before he or she had even had the chance to breath. 

"It does seem that way," Jon agreed, his eyes now tracing a trail of tears that had escaped Lyarra's sad grey eyes. Without thinking he lifted a hand and brushed the tears away with his thumb. Lyarra leaned her head into his hand until he was cradling her cheek. Her eyes closed tight she tried to hold in the sadness that she had fostered inside her since she was a little girl. "But you are a Queen, after all isn't that a good place to end up?"

"A better place than this," She admitted, and Jon was not hurt. He could not imagine his sister staying at Castle Black, it was no place set for a Queen, not even a Northern Queen. 

Jon rose to his feet as though to leave but the Queen caught his hand, their fingers still intertwined she drew herself up and gently pressed herself against his chest. Their hands between them neither spoke for a moment until Jon wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and rested his head atop her own. She smelt of warmth and Jon wondered how that could be possible in such a cold place. She tilted her head up to look at him and he brushed her hair from her face, no crown graced the her head, no husband stood at her side and every motion she made seemed to indicate she wanted something, she wanted him, his affection. _H_ _is love._ Their mouths met gently, so unlike their first time together. Although the familiar urgency was there, Jon released his grip on her hand and placed it behind her neck, his other drew her waist closer to him. Slowly their kiss deepened, the tongues dancing a familiar tune that they hadn't sung together over a decade, yet felt so natural. Eventually Jon broke the kiss and with red flushed cheeks left the Queens chambers. 

Laying in his bed afterwards Jon was plagued with an insatiable need to feel Lyarra close, almost as though in the space of a few days he had developed a bond strong enough to create separation anxiety. _But she must return South, to Kings Landing. To her children, and her King._ It was before dawn that Jon rose to check on the Queen, just before dawn that he opened his door to find her standing there in his cloak, shivering against the cold. 

"You left this behind" Lyarra said gently, drawing it ever tighter around her lithe frame. 

"It could have waited until morning you grace -"

"No," Lyarra interrupted, moving by him and into his chambers. Jon closed the door and turned to look at her, the moment he did she dropped the cloak to reveal that there was naught beneath but her skin. Breathless he took her in, from the marks that having children had left her to her breasts and back down to the mound of auburn hair that surrounded the place beneath her thighs. "I'm cold," the Queen half whined, a tiny smile appearing on her lips as she moved to cover her breasts with her arms. Jon moved forward and closed the space between them in a few steps. The door closed tightly behind him. 

"I bet you are," he answered her, running his hands down her shoulders and along her hips. "How could any man say no to you?" He wondered then, Lyarra was not yet what could be classified as old, she had years ahead in which she could sire children and make a husband happy. Why did the King not see this?

"I have never met a man who has said no to me," Lyarra replied, "none but you." Jon lifted her arms above her head and held her against one of the four posters surrounding his bed. 

"I never said no," he argued as he began to kiss her neck. "I was a boy, a frightened boy. I thought I was hurting you." 

"You could never hurt me, if you recall it was I who bested you with the sword back then and -" a gasp escaped Lyarra's throat, stopping her speech as Jon gently nipped at her breast. Words forgotten Jon allowed her to drop her hands and set his to work warming her with his hands. Lyarra's hands found themselves entwined in the Lord commanders hair, pulling gently and playfully every time he nipped too hard, or not hard enough. Eventually, tired with the play and his manhood aching against his breeches Jon picked the Queen from her spot against the post she leaned against and dropped her onto the furs of his bed. There their tongues danced together with increasing urgency, only breaking when Jon threw off his shirt in frustration.  _I want to feel her closer_ he thought breathlessly as Lyarra's hands made their way down his stomach and into his breeches. 

"I bet I could beat you with a sword now, your grace. I don't expect the King allows you much play in your Red Keep." Jon teased, he sat up and allowed Lyarra to undo his breeches, once she was done she raised an eye at his manhood.  _Do they grow in the years between boy and man?_ She asked herself,  _I certainly don't remember it being quite so.. large._  HoweverJon gave her no further time to think on the matter, instead he pushed her back and hovered above her center for the slightest moment. 

When he entered her Lyarra let herself moan, Joffrey did not like to hear the noises of pleasure that escaped her during their love-making, but the man inside her right now was no King.  _And for tonight, I am not a Queen_ she told herself. Jon's mouth found hers immediately as he began to thrust himself inside her, she was soft and wet and not entirely different to his old lover, but his mind wandered over that subject quickly when he found her mouth. Her warm, living mouth and made petty jokes and teased him as though they were still children. Her moans however, were not at all childish. Every single one of them sent a vibration from his head to toe, invigorating him to please her more. Moving away from her mouth he kissed her cheek, her jawline and her throat. When she began to lift her hips against his own he came undone, when he was utterly spent he traced circles around her breasts and breathed softly against her sweet white throat. 

"Things could have been so different," Lyarra mumbled quietly, her head turning slightly to look upon him. Jon smiled at her and they exchanged three small kisses before she continued. "Why did you ever come to such a cold place as this?" 

"To protect the realm, Starks have lined the Wall for a hundred -"

"Why did you really come here, Jon." Lyarra pleaded, her smile faltered as she spoke. 

"I suppose I was ashamed, ashamed of what I did to you. You ignored me so purposefully those following moons. I felt as though I was a ghost." 

"So it is my fault then, that you are doomed to die here frozen upon the Wall." When Jon went to refuse her statement she covered his mouth. "Hush now," she pulled herself closer to him. "I have had enough of talking for tonight." And so the pair lay side by side until they felt the shift in the air that indicated dawn had come. 

When Lyarra left for Winterfell two dawns later Jon was not surprised. He had lay beside her silently as she pretended to sleep for those past two days and she had said nothing. Ever trailed by her Kings Guard it was hard to ask her how she felt, even harder to ask if she would ever return. Watching her go he wondered if they had once again over-stepped their bounds. If anybody found out she could hang, her sons would see her head line the walls of the Red Keep if what Jon had heard of their current King was true. Yet he did not let his mind linger on it, soon Lyarra would sit in Winterfell with what remained of her family there. She would hold Robb's daughter and complain that she had none of her own. Their Father would kiss her forehead and treat her as though she were simply his child, and not a Queen. Jon would remain at the Wall, writing to Kings Landing only to request more men to line the walls when the time came. Perhaps one day they would meet again, but their love had been doomed the day they were born, and he could not blame the Gods for it no more than he blamed Lyarra.  _Travel safe, my Queen_ he had whispered to her before she left, and she had smiled at him the same smile she had given him the day she had beaten him at sparring. A vibrant thing that she had reserved only for him. He was glad he had had one last chance to see it. 


End file.
